


s12 e6 Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox - Destiel Coda Fic

by goldpeak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alive Mary Winchester, Angel Castiel, Bisexual Castiel, Bisexual Dean, Castiel in the Bunker, Coda, Comforting Castiel, Concerned Sam Winchester, Cuddly Castiel, Cuddly Dean, Dean Doesn't do Feelings, Destiel - Freeform, Emotionally Hurt Dean, Episode: s12e06 Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Mary Winchester Leaves her Sons, Men of Letters Bunker, Post-Episode: s12e06 Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox, Protective Castiel, Sad Dean Winchester, coda fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8586028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldpeak/pseuds/goldpeak
Summary: S12 E6 'Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox' Coda fic.Dean and Sam return to the bunker. Dean's hurt over Mary's recent actions and storms off to his room, Castiel returns to the bunker and they have a little chat about feelings. Castiel comforts Dean, and Dean repays him with cuddles.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Tonight's episode made me rather sad and I just wanted to do a lil Coda fic, because Destiel cuddles makes everything better. I might do a few more of these, but I don't think I'll make it a series since I am not going to write ones for s12 e1, s12 e2, s12 e4 or s12 e5. I did do one for s12 e3, so you can go find that if you'd like. It's kinda the same as this one, but meh.

“Are you okay, Dean?” Sam asks.  
The bunker door slams behind the boys as they walk down the bunker’s metal stairs. Sam has a dark blue duffel slung over his shoulder; Dean’s carrying a tan canvas bag. They just got back from Canada; they’d had breakfast with their mother and then watched her drive away again to go ‘tie up some more loose ends’ before returning home. Then, the boys embarked on a mostly-silent road trip back to Lebanon.  
“Fantastic, thanks,” Dean says dryly. Without another word, he turns down the hallway and storms off to his room.  
Sam hears the door slam from all the way at the base of the stairs and he winces; he knows that Dean is hurting. He is too, but he understood where Mary was coming from more than Dean did. She needs space, as she had already explained, but Sam thinks that Dean doesn’t really understand her reasoning. When Dean came back from the dead (the first time), he had instantly sought out Sam. When Sam came back from the cage, he spent almost a full year with other hunters before going to Dean. He had needed his space then, too, and he understands why Mary does now but Dean can’t relate, apparently.  
Dean flings his bag onto his bed. He stiffly walks over to the bathroom attached to his room, looking at himself in the mirror. His eyes have huge bags under them and they’re bloodshot; it’s a side effect from his recent lack of sleep. His hair is messy and oily, he runs a hand through it and sighs. He closes the door behind him and strips down until he’s naked; he turns the shower water on and gets in.  
Water cascades down over his shoulders and back. He takes a glob of shampoo and works it into his hair before washing it out and doing the same thing with conditioner. He takes a few minutes to enjoy the hot water and general silence before he gets out, towels off and re-dresses in boxers and a t-shirt. It’s late; he’s tired and he wants nothing more than to curl up in his bed and sleep.  
He’s done with having all these emotions about his mother; she doesn’t love him enough to want to stick around and he can accept that. He’s not very lovable, is he? She says she’ll come back, but if she does, Dean doubts that she’ll be able to stay for long. She’ll get sick of her heartless, ruthless son who she’d prefer as a 4-year-old.  
Dean lazily unpacks his bag before tossing it into the corner of his room and flopping down on his bed. He flicks off his bedside lamp and tucks himself under the covers, rolling onto his stomach before pillowing his head comfortably on his muscular arms. He angles his head slightly to the side, so he can see his bedroom door. Just as a precaution.  
His green eyes flutter to a close and his breathing slows; he feels exhaustion wrap over him before he drifts off into a restful sleep.  
A beam of light floods into Dean’s room from the newly-opened door. He blinks against the intrusive substance before he pushes himself up with his arms, peering at the silhouette in the doorway. The hallway lights are lit up behind the person, they make it hard to distinguish any telling details as to who it is. He soon recognizes the tousled hair and the billowing trenchcoat; he plops his head back down onto his arms with a groan.  
“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Castiel steps farther into the room, gently shutting the door behind him. “Sam told me that you weren’t feeling good. Are you ill?”  
Dean rolls over and shuffles into a sitting position, leaning against his headboard as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. He runs two hands over his face, his stubble catching on his calloused fingers, before he replies.  
“No. I’m fine.”  
Castiel sits down in the chair beside Dean’s bed. He tilts his head, resting his chin on his hands and his elbows on his knees. “No, you’re not.”  
“Okay, maybe not. But I will be. What time is it?” Dean asks, not waiting for a reply before he looks to his bedside table where his clock is. 3:41 AM. “Dude, it’s nearly 4 AM. Let me sleep. Wait, why are you back, anyways?”  
“My trail on Lucifer ran cold. I figured I’d stop by home and ‘regroup’ before going off again,” Cas explains, his tone is light but tinted with exhaustion. “I missed you and Sam, as well.”  
Dean can’t help a slight smile from spreading across his face at that. “Well, I’m glad to see you.”  
“Likewise.”  
The room falls silent for a few moments before Dean speaks up, “Any particular reason you’re still in my bedroom? You planning on climbing in my bed and cuddling with me?”  
“That wasn’t my initial intention, but if that’s what you wanted I wouldn’t protest,” Castiel says, oblivious to the joke in Dean’s question. “I understand that cuddling is something that two people in a relationship engage in periodically.”  
The hunter groans before chuckling, “It was a joke, Cas.”  
“Oh. Then in that case, I’m still here because I know that you need to talk. You Winchesters aren’t very good at dealing with feelings. I’d prefer that you get it out before your emotions explode in some huge fit of rage and you break something,” Castiel huffs, seeming a bit flustered...and is that embarrassment that Dean senses?  
Dean does want to talk, but not particularly with Cas. But then again, he doesn’t want to talk to Sam either, and a therapist is way out of the question – and he can’t vent to his mother about how he’s annoyed with her. So, Cas is the only one left.  
“Fine, I’ll talk.”  
“Sam said that you saw Mary again, but not exactly what happened when you did.” Castiel scoots his chair closer to Dean’s bed, looking across at the hunter with curiosity and thinly-masked concern in his blue eyes.  
“We dropped by Jody’s house after a hunt, and ended up going to a hunter’s funeral with her. All the way up in Canada, actually. Asa Fox; Jody dated him for a while,” Dean shrugs. “Mom showed up at some point during the evening. Apparently, she’s the reason that he got into hunting.”  
“You seem angered that she came,” Cas points out. “Why?”  
“Interrogation, much?” Dean scoffs. “It’s just that she drove all the way to Canada to see some random hunter, instead of coming back home to see us. Are we not as important as Asa?”  
“You said that your mother is the one that got Asa into hunting. Did he die while hunting?” Cas asked.  
Dean nodded.  
“Maybe she felt obligated to come pay her respects; she may have felt that his death was her fault,” the angel suggests.  
“I guess, but she didn’t even tell us. She just showed up. She hardly ever texts, or calls, either,” Dean says. He almost laughs at how bitter he sounds; he’s like a teenager mad at his mom for not letting him go to a party. “While we were there, a demon that was mad at Asa showed up and possessed a couple of hunters. Two died. Billie was there.”  
“The reaper who helped us with the soul bomb?” Cas tilts his head inquisitively.  
Dean’s shocked with himself when he realizes that the first thought that crossed his mind after Cas tilted his head was that it was adorable. Not funny, not ridiculous – adorable. Sure, it’s not exactly a secret that he likes Cas – he knows it, Sam knows it, Cas himself knows it, but adorable isn’t a word he tends to think, much less use. He takes a moment to collect his thoughts before replying.  
“Uh- yeah, her. Afterwards, she offered mom a deal. A one-way ticket upstairs, to heaven. She said that she could tell that mom was miserable on earth,” Dean mutters. “Miserable with her sons, I suppose.”  
“Dean-.” Cas starts, but Dean cuts him off.  
“Mom actually considered it. I was sure she was gonna say yes,” Dean laughs rather hysterically before rubbing his face with his hands again.  
“I take it that she didn’t.”  
“No. I’m just...” Dean pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to get his thoughts under control. “She almost did, Cas. With her sons standing right there.”  
“I’m sorry.”  
A strangled laugh pulls itself from Dean’s throat. “Me, too. Anyway, she went off on her own again. She needs more time.”  
“I can understand why-.”  
“Yeah, Cas. Everyone except me can, apparently.”  
“No, Dean. I can understand why you’re upset about it. It seems foolish that after being resurrected, she distances herself from her only alive family. I’ve never been good with human emotions, but I think that it’s illogical, if anything,” the angel shrugs, scratching his neck absentmindedly.  
“T-Thanks, I guess,” Dean stutters. He expected Cas to go off on an entire spiel about how he needed to have some sympathy for Mary and what she’s going through.  
“You’re welcome, but I’m not sure why you’re thanking me.”  
“Just, thanks for understanding. It seems that no one else does. Uh, and thanks for, you know, caring. It did feel alright to get some of it out,” Dean scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “I missed you, man.”  
A half-smile appears on Castiel’s face and Dean’s expression softens at the sight. God, he’s smitten. All these girly feelings...adoration, longing...god, he even feels cuddly. It’s a foreign feeling.  
“I know you feel like no one cares, Dean. That’s not true. I care, Sam cares, and all of your friends care,” Cas says gently, standing up from his chair. “For the record, I missed you too. It seems silly to admit our feelings for one another and then part ways so soon, and for so long.”  
Dean bites his lip, he feels heat rising up in his face. This is getting too sappy, and fast. “Yeah.”  
“You can sleep now. I’ll watch over you,” Cas offers.  
“No, Cas. That’s still creepy.” Dean rubs his arm as goosebumps pop up all over it. He’s cold. “If you want to stay, at least get in bed.”  
Cas doesn’t protest. Instead, he stands up and shrugs off his trenchcoat. He drapes it carefully over the back of the chair before walking around to the other side of Dean’s bed and sitting down on it, leaning against the headboard.  
Dean adjusts himself so he’s laying down again, but this time he’s on his side facing away from Cas. He pulls the comforter up to his neck and sighs, allowing his muscles to relax. His chest feels significantly lighter, and he doesn’t feel as angry as he did when he initially fell asleep. A small smile graces his lips; maybe talking wasn’t all that bad. Especially when it’s with Cas. The angel’s not the best at comprehending humans, but he seems to have a knack for understanding Dean.  
Dean’s still cold, despite the blankets draped over him. Well, why would he pass up the perfectly good source of body heat sitting right beside him?  
The hunter rolls over and sidles up to Cas, draping one of his legs across Cas’s and laying an arm across his torso. He nuzzles his head into Cas’s side, exhaling into the slightly wrinkled fabric of the angel’s suit jacket.  
“I was under the impression that you didn’t want to cuddle.” Despite his teasing remark, Cas places one of his hands into Dean’s messy hair and cards his long fingers through the blondish-brown strands.  
“Shut up,” Dean murmurs warmly, closing his eyes and quickly drifting off to sleep.  
...

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! I don't think that it was too bad. If you see any mistakes, please let me know. Thanks.


End file.
